by Vivien Brown
‘I’m sorry. No need. But I did see a stranger wandering about last night actually, calling on Joe. Does he often have callers late at night?’
‘I have no idea. Not up to me to monitor his visitors, is it? Pretty, was she?’
‘I have no idea. I couldn’t even tell if it was a he or a she. There was a car though, parked just along the road. I didn’t notice it in the dark, but I spotted it this morning, from the window. Not a local, because it was parked right under the tree.’
‘Ha, ha! Covered in pigeon poo then?’
‘Oh yes. Roof and windscreen utterly splattered! It must have been there all night.’
‘And you think it belongs to Joe’s visitor?’
‘Bound to.’
‘And does that bother you, love?’
‘No, not at all. I’m just curious, that’s all. Joe can see who he likes, and do what he likes. He’s not my problem any more.’
‘Is that what he was, Prue? A problem?’
‘I didn’t think so while I was with him, but life with Joe was never going to be exactly thrilling, was it? Or fulfilling? It was all very embarrassing, the way it ended, but I’m glad now. That it’s over, I mean.’
‘Good. So, what’s next? Are you going to stay, or scurry back off to London? Your little swapping arrangement with Madi hasn’t actually ended yet, has it? Her place is still empty, and she’s obviously not in any hurry to go home. She’s fallen in love with the village, I can see that now.’
‘Yes, and, to answer your question, I am thinking about going back to London, but maybe a little more long-term.’
‘What, stay longer you mean? I don’t know what Fred will say about that. Taking a whole month’s leave at once was bad enough, but …’
‘No, Mum,’ Prue interrupted her. ‘I meant staying there, and leaving my job altogether.’
Faith’s hand flew up to her face in surprise, cupping her open mouth. ‘Oh. I didn’t see that coming. This isn’t just to get away from Joe, is it? Because it does seem a bit drastic.’
‘No, Mum. This has nothing to do with Joe, and everything to do with me. My life, my future. My … dreams, I suppose.’
‘You’d better tell me all about it then, hadn’t you? Not just slope off without a word like last time.’
‘Well, I won’t do that again. Head held high from now on, I promise. This time I’m going to do what I should have done ages ago, something you’ve been telling me I should do …’
‘Well, whatever’s going on, you’d best spit it out.’
‘Come on then, come and take a look at something on the computer. I think you’ll be pleased. Proud too, maybe.’
‘I’m always proud of you, silly girl. How could I not be? But you’ve got me intrigued now, so hurry up and let me have a look.’ Her mum crouched down in front of the laptop and Prue smiled.
‘I’m actually looking at photography courses, proper full-time courses at university.’
‘Oooh, lighting, creative skills, digital techniques, film production, working in TV … This looks really interesting, and right up your street, love,’ Faith said, peering at the list of course contents on the screen. ‘And food placement. What’s that when it’s at home?’
‘No idea, Mum,’ Prue said, ‘but I fully intend to find out.’
Chapter 30
MADI
Madi woke up with a start. Someone was banging, loudly, on the front door.
She climbed out of bed and switched on the light, pulling on her dressing gown as she ran down the stairs.
‘Miss Cardew, Miss Cardew …’ It sounded like young Donny. What on earth could be so urgent? She stopped in the hall to check herself in the mirror, noting the rumpled nightie, the lack of make-up and the stubbly hair that reminded her she had left her wig upstairs by the bed. Still, what did any of that matter if there was some emergency requiring her attention?
That evening’s second rehearsal had been a busy and productive one, as she and Patty had worked away at the back of the hall, altering and embellishing various donated dresses and waistcoats to make costumes, hemming the old stage curtains where some of the stitching had come undone, and clapping the burgeoning acts as they each took their turn on stage. She had come home exhausted and gone to bed early. The clock on the wall in the kitchen told her now that it was not yet ten o’clock. She could only have been asleep for half an hour. She flicked on the porch light, yawning, and opened the door.
‘Miss Cardew, come quick. There’s a fire.’
‘A fire? Where?’
‘In the village hall, Miss. There’s smoke and flames and everything.’
‘Has anyone dialled 999?’
‘Yes, and they’re on their way.’ He sounded excited, as only a schoolboy faced with the prospect of blue lights and sirens can be. ‘I was first to see it. Mr Bishop’s already gone running down there, and he said to come and tell you. Our stuff’s in there, from the rehearsals. The microphone and the costumes …’
‘But no people, Donny? Costumes can be replaced but …’
‘No, everyone’s out, Miss. We all left at the same time, soon after you did, when Mr Bishop locked up just after nine.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Madi felt a shiver run through her. She was still in her nightie, her feet bare, so it wasn’t surprising she felt cold, but this was more than that. It was a shiver of fear. Tom! What was he thinking, running towards a fire, when any sensible person would make sure they ran away? But then she remembered he had been a fireman. At least he would know how to stay safe. He wouldn’t take any risks, and perhaps there was something he could do, before the fire engines arrived, to help put out the flames.
‘Right. Let me quickly get dressed and I’ll be out. You keep well back from the fire now, Donny. No heroics, you hear me?’
‘Yes, Miss.’
‘What were you doing out at this time of night anyway? Why didn’t you go straight off home?’
A definite shifty look passed across the boy’s face, and he mumbled some sort of excuse about hanging around to look at the moon. Madi wasn’t buying it, but this wasn’t the time to stop and question him. For now, all that mattered was getting herself down to the hall and making sure that Tom was all right.
By the time she emerged into the street a few minutes later, the sky was lit with a bright orange glow that hovered above the line of trees like a bright and rather beautiful sunset. The smoke, carried by the wind, was drifting through the night air, catching in her throat. She could see the tips of the flames reaching for the sky before she turned the corner and saw the old wooden hall itself, or what was left of it.
Tom was doing his best with a garden hose, connected to the outside tap in the nearest garden, but the hose was not long enough and the trickle of water emerging from it was doing nothing but wet the pavement. A couple of the other men were running back and forth from their homes with buckets.
Everyone else was outside in the street, standing around in groups, watching in near silence as if they could hardly believe what they were witnessing. Some of them had come out in their dressing gowns and slippers, one or two wielding their phones and taking pictures, capturing the moment as the last walls succumbed to the flames and their cherished hall finally lost its battle for survival.
By the time the fire engines came roaring in, it was obvious that it was too late to do anything much but douse the flames.
‘Well, that’s it then.’ Tom sat in Prue’s kitchen clutching a warming cup of cocoa and shaking his head. ‘That’s the end of the show. Hall burnt to the ground. Costumes all gone …’
‘If only we’d carried them down to store them overnight in Prue’s shed as we’d planned.’
‘But we didn’t, Madi. My fault. I’m supposed to be the one in charge, and I left them there, at the mercy of the flames. All that flammable material. You hear about it, don’t you? Cheap Halloween costumes catching alight …’
‘These weren’t cheap fancy dress, Tom. They were ordinary clothe
s, tarted up with sequins. The costumes aren’t to blame. You’re not to blame.’
‘We don’t know that. I’m an ex-firefighter, for God’s sake. How on earth can this have happened?’
‘Let’s wait and see what the investigation turns up, shall we? And in the meantime, we can ask for more donations and make new costumes.’
‘What’s the point? We’d hardly got started anyway. And with no hall, we have nowhere to rehearse and, more importantly, nowhere to hold the actual show. No, it’s over, Madi. It’s a crying shame, but I’ve let those kids down.’
He went home to bed soon after, leaving Madi sitting alone at the table, suddenly wide awake.
She had been thinking, over the last couple of days, about going home herself. Her planned month in Shelling would be over soon, and her agent had emailed, asking when she might be ready to return to work. The rigours of touring still felt a little beyond her, but a small part, close to home, might be okay. A way to ease herself back in gently. It was so easy to get left behind or forgotten altogether in this business. And then there was George. If he had seen her missed call he had not responded to it, and she knew now it was going to be up to her to make the first move as soon as she was back in London.
She pulled her diary from her handbag, realising for the first time that it was April the first. A day for childish jokes and trying to fool people with fake spiders and eggs that bounce when you drop them. She’d had more than her share of silly backstage tricks in her time, but it was not really the right day for a devastating fire. She just hoped that, whatever had happened at the hall tonight, it had been an accident and not something to do with one of the kids playing some silly prank.
Where once her diary would have been filled with meetings, rehearsal and performance dates, the pages were ominously blank. In fact, looking back to the start of the year, the only things she had written in were her hospital appointments, and the start and end dates for her visit to Shelling.
She would talk to Prue in the morning and find out if she had any plans to go back to London in the next few days. If not, then she could see no reason to stay here any longer. All she had done since she’d arrived was lead the local teenagers into a project that was now totally dead in the water, set the rumours going about herself and a married man, and get herself involved in running over and almost killing a much-loved cat. This village would be a darn sight better off without her in it, that was for sure. And now that Prue was back in Shelling, it really didn’t feel right to keep her out of her own cottage. No, they might as well officially swap back sooner than expected.
‘I still can’t believe it.’ Faith stood outside the burnt-out hall, now cordoned off by a line of tape. ‘This old hall’s been here as long as I have. And it’s been at the heart of things ever since. The W.I., the Brownies, the library … Oh, no. The library! All the books will have been lost. Oh, Madi, it’s just too awful. And your wonderful show as well. I was so looking forward to that.’
‘Yes, it’s a great shame.’
‘I’m assuming it was insured, so it will be rebuilt eventually, but these things take time, don’t they? And you can bet the Council will argue over plans and try to make the replacement all modern and cover it in solar panels or fill it with all this wi-fi nonsense. And, while we’re waiting, people are being deprived of their books. I wonder if we could put out an appeal? You know, asking for donations. Everyone’s got books tucked away that they’re never going to read again. The big library in town might even have some they don’t need any more. I bet they throw them away when they get a bit bent or no one’s borrowed them in a while, and that will never do. I’ll ring them. Right now. And we’ll need somewhere to store them, of course, somewhere people can come to browse. Ah, my dad’s old darkroom! That never gets used these days. I’ll ask Prue. I’m sure she won’t mind …’
Madi smiled to herself as Faith bustled away in the direction of Orchard House. No doubt she would have roped Patty into her schemes before the day was out. If you want something done, ask a busy person, that’s what they say, and when it came to those two, Madi knew the old saying was spot-on. If a problem needed solving, they were the ones to get on with the job. She had no doubt the hall and all its activities would be back up and running as soon as was humanly possible, and probably better than ever.
She watched Faith stop as she bumped into her daughter further along the street, a few words passing between them before they parted ways and Prue came ambling towards her.
‘Ah, Prue, I was just on my way to see you.’
‘Morning, Madi.’ Prue stopped and gazed at the hall. ‘Terrible, isn’t it? Have they any idea how it started?’
‘Not that I’ve heard, but I expect Tom will be the first to find out. The dear man feels awful about it. I saw him first thing, on his way to visit his wife, but we’ve agreed to meet up this afternoon. I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Now, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Okay. Walk with me if you like. I was just on my way to the shop for bread, and then I’m going to see Flo. Ralph says she might be able to come home later today.’
‘Home, already? Oh, Prue, I’m so glad, but she’ll need the familiarity of her own place, won’t she? It really is time I went, so you and Flo can have your cottage back. That’s what I wanted to ask you actually. About a date to swap back.’
‘But that’s all set for next Wednesday, isn’t it? Flo will be fine at my mum’s. It’s always been like a home from home for her, and Mum will make a huge fuss of her. Now I don’t have to worry about her, I was hoping to catch a train back this evening, so I can make the most of my last few days in London. I never did get to an art gallery, and there are a couple of other places I’d like to go and check out while I have the chance. I’d really like to see if there’s been any progress with the plans for the garden and say a proper goodbye to Aaron too. Is that all right with you?’
‘Of course.’ They had reached the shop already and Madi wanted to avoid going in. If she did, she knew Patty would keep her talking for ages, and she wasn’t really in the mood. ‘We had an agreement and I have no intention of breaking it. If you want to go back, then go. I might even be able to get you a free ticket to a show somewhere. Let me try pulling a few strings and I’ll let you know. And, as for staying in Shelling, I’m sure I can amuse myself for a while longer, especially now the weather’s picking up.’
‘It’s not that far to the beach, you know,’ Prue said, one hand on the shop door. ‘And it won’t be crowded this time of the year. Have you been?’
‘No, I haven’t. I kept meaning to, but I’ve been lazy, not been out and about much at all. I still need my rest …’
‘Of course you do. I’m sorry. You just seem so lively, so … well, normal, I suppose … that it’s easy to forget you’ve been so ill. Seawater’s good for you though. Even if you only have a paddle.’
‘I might just do that. And, if I don’t see you again before you go, I just wanted to say thank you. This swap has been wonderful, and I would happily do it again. Shelling is a lovely place, full of lovely people.’ She reached forward and pulled Prue into a hug. ‘Maybe it could become an annual event? A holiday home away from home. Good for both of us.’
‘That’s not a bad idea, but I’m not sure where I’ll be this time next year.’
‘Oh?’ Madi looked at her curiously but Prue did not elaborate.
‘I’d love to keep in touch though. And thank you too, Madi. Your flat is gorgeous. Like a top class hotel! And the residents of Belle Vue are …’
‘Unique?’
‘I was going to say interesting, but yes, unique pretty much sums them up! Bye, Madi. Have a safe journey home next week. We’ll probably pass each other somewhere in the middle!’
‘You too, dear.’
Madi strolled back to Snowdrop Cottage and made herself a cup of tea. Her disturbed sleep last night had left her feeling tired and the fire had unsettled her. As she and Tom had been
the last to use the hall, it was impossible not to feel … guilty was too strong a word, but certainly concerned. Was it something they had done? Something they hadn’t spotted but should have? All those young people in their care, and the ending could so easily have been far more tragic. It didn’t bear thinking about. And why was young Donny still hanging about the village after the others had all gone home? She shook away her silly suspicions. Donny, more than anybody, wanted the show to succeed, and the hall was a vital part of that. And if he hadn’t been out so late, there might not have been anyone to raise the alarm.
She shuddered at the memory of the lit-up sky and the smell of the smoke that still lingered in her clothes. Well, at least there was something she could do about that, as she gathered up the things she had been wearing and bundled them into the washing machine. She’d have to strip the bed when she left next week and wash the covers, and all the towels, before she set off for home. Still, waiting for them to dry would give her time to say her goodbyes. And, even after just a month here, there would be quite a few of those.
When Madi opened her eyes, the washing had finished, the rain was pounding at the windows, and her neck ached. She must have nodded off on the sofa, with one leg tucked up beneath her and her head flopped over to one side. She stretched her limbs out and wriggled her head around a few times to loosen the stiffness, then glanced at her watch. She was surprised to see it was already a quarter past one. She really must have been tired.
Tom! She had agreed to meet him in the pub for a drink and a spot of lunch at one and she was not only already late but hadn’t even changed out of her jeans. Which would he prefer? For her to run down there now, just as she was, and be only twenty minutes late, or to take the time to dress up and apply her make-up and keep him waiting for an hour? She knew the answer to that question. That was the beauty of their friendship. He accepted her for exactly who she was, warts and all, and probably actually preferred her that way. Knowing Tom, he’d be champing at the bit with his mouth watering at the thought of one of The Brown Cow’s speciality pies, so who was she to keep him waiting? She grabbed her bag and her keys, slipped her coat and the nearest pair of shoes on and hurried out into the rain to meet him.
